FBI or SEX?
by xoVampiresxo
Summary: What is the life of a stripper, refined as she is? How will Bella cope with being one? What was her once, dark past that changed her into what she is now? What dangers lie before her, when she falls in love, again? Has sex, drugs, & profanity. OOC R
1. Preface

**Summary: Bella has a dark past, and forced to work as a stripper. She is refined, unlike any other strippers the stereotypical average may view it as. She works hard to improve her future, and others. But why would the connection of her bittersweet past threaten to ruin her world and crumble away everything she's worked so hard for?**

I felt powerful and alive as the last of my outfit was complete. My facial features, as I always refuse, was bare of any make-up and my hair was like a haystack, something I also refused to be changed by artificial applicators, a natural hairstyle I woke up into.

The leather corset wrapped around my torso tight, snuggling close to my body as the leather thong hugged my other curve. High heels were never my thing so I omitted them from any outfit suggestions that people from the club said would make my performances all the more erotic. I didn't need anything to be sexy, I was born for this.

I stepped out, confidence burning as my eyes raked the amount of men that were present in the club today, many of which were incredibly hot and sexy. I always wondered how our club attracted so many of them, but then again, we were the biggest club in Seattle, and perfect; the epitome of sexuality.

The light blinded me for a split second before I headed for the pole, my left hand already holding onto it as I cocked my head to the right, flinging my hair dramatically. The music began to play, disco style almost, and all eyes were on me. Everyone knew when it was _my _performance, no one had a stray eye. The cheers and screams were definitely beginning to boost my ego permanently.

My legs wrapped themselves around the pole instantly, I slid down the pole with my legs outstretched and spiraled, the sensational touch of the cold iron pressed against my leather thong was invigorating, coursing me to continue onto more dance moves. I stood back up, arching my back so my ass would stick out towards the audience and climbed the pole with my inner thighs, my head throbbed from the rush of blood but I quickly got used to that as I descended again, legs tilted upwards.

Dancing was my second passion, something that I had grown into loving when my father was an abusive father. He had always regarded me with the most horrible of profanity and often disliked how I would be away from home. But was it my fault? After my mother had left and divorced my father, he had chosen to not let it up and as I lived with Charlie, my father, he soon began to hit me. To abuse me, being the reason why my mother had left. It wasn't true, I reminded myself now as moisture began to collect.

I sniffed away the tears and began all the necessary grindings of the pole, against it with my ass, my breasts hanging low many times for the audience to see. One thing I refused to do, was to reveal myself completely in front of the people that gathered. I had a borderline, and as sad as it might be, I'm still a virgin. I chuckled at the stupidity of being a stripper, but haven't had sex.

The cat-walk like strip that extended outwards, to reach the spectators more easily was beginning to flash neon blue, signaling my time to walk it. My hips swayed and hair flew as I walked down the narrow strip, somehow it was nice to have gained balance. I used to be someone who, on many occasions, fell down easily and couldn't walk across a flat surface with absolutely no niches present. But here I am, walking down the catwalk like a model, endlessly on nights to collect my tips.

The men went wild as I walked to the very end, kneeling down to receive my extra tips. Many hands began to appear as they stuffed the cash into the leather purse I produced for tips. Usually, Friday nights meant good tips and for that matter, many of us girls already know it's best to be on our best behaviour, or naughtiest, whichever one it seems more appropriate - but the goal is one: make the men wet in their pants for more.

It wasn't a hard job, seeing as many of these men were either also virgins, businessmen who needed time from work, fathers from their family where sexual act has been forbidden, or just someone that needs a bit of their fantasies fulfilled. God, I love Fridays.

The music slowly died down as I began my descent, walking towards the bar, a routine I've grown into and an excuse to get more tips, when I saw a few men by the tables of the bar. They were undoubtedly, very handsome and all of which had bodies mimicking those of models. They were all in button down shirts and looked to have just finished work. That, attracted my attention.

Money was going to be even more tonight as I walked over, lazily bending down as my hands rested on the table so my breasts would be pressed against my arm and body.

"So, how are you guys liking the show, so far?" I asked with a seducing tone.

All the men seemed to have been pretty scared stiff from before, but now their eyes were just wide, popping out of their sockets. They all nodded in unison, looking like bobble heads as I began my strut to the bar for a water and vitamin drink, the bartender gave it to me with a quickly. It was a daily routine, or nightly one, to replenish my energy for the night. I downed the drink and as many men crowded around me to offer a drink, I refused. But many of them, had money waving, so I didn't hesitate to start my picking.

My last, final work of the night was to climb up the stage, thong barely covering anything, and doing a few more things on the pole. The men were restless, but I wasn't. I was tired and in a few more minutes, my online courses for college was to begin.

My ears almost whined in protest as the applause sounded, every man was standing up, many of which had darkened spots on their pants, at the area of arousal.

I giggled and began walking out of the stage, greeted by a few women who came out just as I left.

Angela, or Angie, as we called her, was at her vanity desk, beside mine. She was fluffing up her hair and smiled as I sat down, or rather plopped down. Every show was tiring.

"So, how was tonight? The men seem pretty excited out there..." she asked, teasing me.

"Oh, you can _see _the excitement," I chuckled, thinking of all those wet spots.

"You go girl!" She laughed, her brown locks falling behind the chair.

Angela was my best friend at this place. She too, had divorced parents and her father constantly abused her. She had her fair share of beatings and as a result, moved out when she was 17, we both moved out at the same age. Somehow, being in a place where women were thought of as nothing but pleasurable toys, we bonded and vowed to not give into that stereotypical category. We, were changing what normal strippers do. We, were wanted and desired but every man, but never had. We were sisters in this god forsaken world.

I quickly changed, putting on a sweater and jeans to rush home. We both took online courses from colleges, unable to wake up early in the morning for classes and as a result, needed to be in front of the computer at a specific time.

"Rushing to go home for courses?" she giggled, standing up to begin her shift.

"Yeah," I kissed her on the cheeks for good luck and began my way down the busy street.

The cold of the winter night blew my hair, whipping it in front of my face. Tears began to spill down like every other night, wanting nothing more than to earn enough money, and begin a job that I truly wanted. But for the time being, I was stuck.

The future didn't look bright for me, but when was it ever? I had two more years until being a social worker to help children who had been like me was an official occupation. How will I ever wait that long?

It felt like yesterday when I left Forks. I left for my own good, and his. We just weren't meant to be together...

I brushed away the tears and stepped into the lobby, greeting the security guard and entering the elevator. The usual routine as every night, I sighed and stepped into the apartment. It was lit automatically, everything was perfect.

My new life, a life as a stripper, was if most people thought of, was actually pretty glorious. Both me and Angela lived in this apartment and being strippers, you'd think we lived in a run-down building or even on the streets. But no, we were refined strippers.

We had bottom lines, we were virgins, for one.

We were also able to support and pay for the rent of this apartment, a swanky and beautiful place.

We also had goals of changing the lives of others. We wanted to make sure people who were like us, abused and hurt, would not do something stupid.

Our own determination to change situations of teenage girls who fell into the traps of depression and abusive parents made us strong, through the hard times of working in a club.

I turned on the computer, it wheezed awake instantly and the site for online courses began.

**Okay, I'm a GUY writing being a FEMALE STRIPPER. Give me a break, kay?**


	2. The hunt is on EPOV

**meanwhile in EDWARD! yes, this story has Edward...duh...and come on, what did you think FBI stood for? :) (or who worked there...nonetheless...)  
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"Robert," I groaned, "Really, it's not necessary to pair me up with Victoria..." I sat down in the chair of the spacious room and begged of being somewhere else.

"Edward, you know she's the only one in our team that's fit for being your partner. You either outrun them, aim better, think faster, or just plain better than everyone else here." Robert, my group leader was being such a hard person to compromise with.

"It's really not needed for me to even _have _a partner. Let alone it being Victoria." I rolled my eyes as Robert sat down in the chair, calling for Victoria.

"Victoria, Edward seems to have second thoughts about you being his partner on this case and needs some sort of reassurance." He switched off the phone and in moments, the red head was in the room as well.

"Hello, sir."

"Yes, come in Victoria."

Victoria walked beside me and faced Robert as well. I knew that she had a crush on me and openly used ways to either spark some sort of love, try to touch me with the most inappropriate of ways, or be someone that seduces me. I would shiver at the thought if we weren't in the same group, working on busting drug dealers and such...needing to be in close proximity of each other. Sometimes even needing to act as lovers, which I would shudder.

"So, I've heard Edward here, doesn't want me as his partner for the case?" She looked up at me, batting her eyelashes. Oh god, can she get anymore desperate?

"I just find it unnecessary. Really, I can handle the case myself. The setting's a strip club that he hangs out in a lot, big deal." Was trying to get out of a companionship with Victoria _that _hard? Or was Robert just being difficult?

"Edward, just take her as your damn partner. Work together, no but's because I'm your boss. Got it?"

I took a deep breath and nodded, my fingers clenched as we walked out of his office.

"So, Edward, did you do any outside information researching on Al Pachino and his drug dealing ways?" She asked, her tone was dripping with seductiveness but hell, I didn't fall for it once, so I won't fall for it twice.

"Yes, I'll give you printed copies of some of the information I got off him from people." I went quickly away to my room to think.

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**whee...okay i'll post the next chapter up in...a day? cause i just realized how most of you like this story...hmm...**


	3. Subway sanwiches and boys

**WHOEVER LIKES THIS STORY, VOTE FOR IT AT MY POLL SO IT'D CONTINUE. i don't know which story to type...and i need your suggestions on which would be better to type. So, just come on over to my page and vote on the poll! thanks!  
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The sun shone brightly through the window as I stretched, the stiff cramps in my body was painful as my mind tried to remember where I was.

Oh yeah, I was researching for my term paper on the computer last night. I groaned and got up, getting myself a glass of milk and downed it at once to drown out my hoarse and croaky throat. I glanced toward the clock, 1 in the afternoon. Wow, I must have slept long. I had come home around 10 last night...

I sighed and went into Angela's room, directly opposite to mine and knocked softly. I knew she probably wouldn't be awake but it wasn't good to get fat over sleeping too much and part of being a stripper was to stay fit and look sexy. Of course, I hated having to think about people who thought us stereotypical 'dancers' to always get ourselves anorexic and do drugs. Heck, I'd never even touched one before.

"Angela?" I called softly through the crack of the door as I opened it more.

There was faint breathing, her chest was heaving slowly as I got over to her bed, ready to wake her up.

"Bah!" I fell back instantly almost tripped, with my old equilibrium of balance I would have, but only faltered to stand with my new acquired ones.

"Jeez, don't scare me like that!" I yelled, amusement in my voice as well.

Angela was laughing at me with her grin wide and the bell chime of her voice loud in the room.

"Okay, stop laughing. Sheesh, it's mean enough you scare me you know." I grumbled and started stepping out of the room when Angela's hand wrapped themselves around my neck and we walked together like a small train into the living room.

"Fine, I'm sorry Bella-bear. I promise not to scare you anymore." She cooed me like a baby as we each plopped down on the sofa. I stuck my tongue out at her and turned on the television. It was another mindless sitcom, I switched the channel.

"So, what's planned for today?" She asked, ruffling her hair slightly.

"I don't know, but did you get some research materials for the term paper already?" I knew the answer before she said it out loud. She was always learning material, someone who absorbed education and loved it with a passion to make sure her life was changed.

"What do you take me for? Of course I did!" She flicked a finger at the side of my arm and took the remote instead.

"Let me watch the news already."

We finished watching the news and with grumbling stomachs, decided it was time for lunch, or afternoon high tea really.

"Where do we eat...where do we eat..." The soft tapping of her hands on the arm rest of the couch was the only sound in the room after turning off the tv. Her eyes were lost in thought as I stared at her, trying to wait out an answer.

"Well, I guess we could try out the restaurant downstairs...people say it's good." I suggested, still intent on what Angela. She had a real thing for gourmet food and usually picked what we eat, what with the healthy choices we had to make and all. Really, us two sister-like best friends should be deemed the most unrealistic of strippers.

"Hmm, okay!" She jumped out of the couch and stood up straight in one smooth movement. I held out my hand for her to take so she could help me up but she turned and walked a few steps before sighing and helped me up anyways.

"I knew you'd help." I smiled and went into my room to change as Angela smirked. I found a comfortable outfit, t-shirt and jeans combo, and dressed quickly, my stomach already begging me to pay attention to it. One is never controlled by the mind, but by the stomach. The stomach cannot be ignored. I laughed at the Pop-tart commercial I'd seen far too much and stepped out, at exactly the same time as Angela. Her brown curls were tied back into a slick ponytail, a few strands left to frame her heart-shaped face. We had matching outfits. I laughed and so did Angela as we examined each other.

"You really should tie up your hair today. It's messier than normal." Angela snickered and slapped the side of my butt before walking off. I lightly kicked hers from behind, just as she shielded it from me with both her hands and ran off into the living room. "I'll get you!" I yelled back, disappearing into my room to tie up my hair as well. Angela usually knew when I should tie up my hair, and today definitely seemed like a day to do just that.

My haystack of a hair, wavy curls everywhere were quite messy, even for my standards. I grimaced and tried running a brush through my hair. Nope, I think I broke another one. I laughed at myself and combed through my hair with my fingers, managing to have it look acceptable and then tied it up as well, letting a few loose strands stray.

"Okay, I'm ready!" I announced as I walked into the living room, Angela already putting on a pair of Converse.

"About time, slowpoke." I stuck my tongue out at her and put on a pair of white tennis shoes.

The restaurant ended up being quite packed and without reservations, impossible to get in. We were forced to go for the ever healthy and ever boring routine of sandwiches from Subway. Seriously, I think my stomach has conceived more wheat products than the average person should be allowed. Oh well, we're all about healthy in this century anyways.

As we ate, sitting on a one sided table facing the busy street, the stares and glares we got from our backs was inevitable. What can I say, me and Angela attracted attention. It wasn't too soon as two men, one with tanned skin and russet blackish hair, the other with brown hair pale and wore glasses.

"So ladies, mind we join you?" asked the strange russet haired man in his twenties.

"If we said no, you'd still join, right?" Angela asked, already knowing exactly how well men would react.

"You're probably right." He smiled, flashing his brilliant white teeth in contrast to his dark skin and sat down, along with his friend.

I could sense the nervous vibes coming off the man with the glasses, very uncomfortable and fidgeting with his hands as he sat beside his friend.

"So, what are your names? Mines Jacob." He smiled again and then the one with glasses spoke up, his voice slightly shaky. "And I'm Ben."

We nodded and smiled as Angela began, "I'm Angela and she's Bella."

Jacob seemed deep in thought, a faraway look on his face as he examined both me and Angela, not in a freaky stalker way, but acknowledging us and remembering our names with our faces.

There was an awkward silence as Angela and I continued eating. From my peripheral vision, I could see Jacob nudge Ben several times on his sides as he whispered something harshly, probably some instructions to say hi? I couldn't hear from the end of the table and resorted to reading Angela's face. For some reason, Angela was smiling, goofily, might I add.

I nudged her as well on the side, she almost dropped her sandwich on the ground but it ended up landing on the table, right where the paper wrapping was.

"What!?" She hissed at me, her gaze still partially locked on Ben.

"What are you looking at?" I inquired, somehow I knew already.

"Nothing," she whispered back. Oh, there definitely was something.

Realization hit me hard as I watched where she was looking at.

"You're hitting on Ben!" I gasped, unable to hide my excitement.

"No I'm not! Shut up!" She hissed at me again. Right...like I didn't already know. I giggled but had to stop abruptly as Angela nudged me.

Ben spoke up first, "So, do you two come here often?" He smiled meekly, his glasses drooped a little from his thin, long nose.

Angela's replying smile was large and her voice like dripping honey, "Well, we do come here often. How about you two?" I thought she should have just omitted the two and made it, 'How about you Ben? Do you come here often?' Haha, I had to laugh at my own little scenario.

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**AWWW!! Angela's ATTRACTED TO BEN! :)**

**Really, this chapter's just to show that, yes, JACOB IS IN THE STORY TOO. DUN DUN DUN DUN!! So's Ben. :)**


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